'Twas Brixton, and the Theydon Bois
Did Ruislip Gardens in Archway.
All Morden was the Barkingside,
And the Moor Park South Quay.
Beware the Underground, my son!
The wheels that bite, the doors that catch!
Beware the New Cross Gate, and shun
The Finchley Central Bankersnatch!
He took his Travelcard in hand,
Long time the Maida Vale he sought,
So rested he by the Burnt Oak tree,
And Sudbury Hill in thought.
And as at Upminster he stood,
The Underground, headlights aflame,
Came Wapping through the Chorleywood,
And Barking as it came.
He mound the gap! - the Underground
With cries of "Please, do mind the doors!"
Conveyed him down to Acton Town
And Heathrow Terminal Four.
"Then hast thou used the Underground?
Come, Marble Arch, my Balham boy!
Oh, Gunnersbury! Cyprus, Croxley!"
He Shoreditched in his joy.
'Twas Brixton, and the Theydon Bois
Did Ruislip Gardens in Archway.
All Morden was the Barkingside,
And the Moor Park South Quay.